


Nativity Set

by thecattydddy



Series: The History of South Italy and America [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1930's, Christmas, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred has always made others feel warm and welcome in his home, so this Christmas Toris and Lovino decide they want to show their appreciation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I started this last Christmas and instead of posting it in December like I should be doing, I'm gonna go ahead and post it now. It didn't really start out this way, but it's become a low-key prequel to "When The War Is Won". Depending on my motivation and time management, I would love to write a sequel to that in which Lovino, Kiku and Alfred spend a Christmas together, but we'll see. No promises.
> 
> It's supposed to be set the winter of 1939, but my knowledge of the time period is limited at best and it's probably super inaccurate, historically, so I apologize in advance for that.

Lovino hated snow. He hated it more than he hated Ludwig and he _really_ hated that German bastard. If Lovino was some kind of masked vigilante, one of his rivals would definitely be some kind of snow person, who had a magic gun that could shoot ice at people and freeze them to death. That was actually pretty good. He ought to tell that one to somebody.

Anyways, the point was Lovino hated the snow so much he would take up fighting crime, despite having no superpowers, in order to defeat it. That's a lot of hate for one person. It was totally justified, though. He was an Italian at heart, no matter where he was staying. Sure, he'd been spending some time in America, loafing off the optimistic manchild who lived there, but that didn't make winters any easier. In fact, that just made them worse. Now, he didn't only have to deal with _that_ trauma, but there was constantly an obnoxious foreigner around him at all times, trying to make him less miserable by bringing him extra coats and blankets and all those stupid little things that are just false hopes of warmth. How dare that jerk try and curb his rage? Who does he think he is, huh?

“Lovi?”

Speaking of the bastard, here he was now, wool blanket and a cup of coffee in either hand. Considering the American was usually too busy to make his own coffee, it was probably Toris' work and, therefore, consumable. Lovino accepted the coffee as the other wordlessly handed it to him with his usual cheery smile. The warmth of the hot liquid spread through Lovino almost as soon as it'd been placed in his possession and he let out a soft sigh, content. A blanket was laid around his shoulders and then the space on the couch beside him was occupied.

“I'm sorry there isn't more I can do to help.” He spoke softly – well, softly for him at least – while facing the Italian and leaning in slightly. The American always seemed so warm, even despite the snowy landscape outside. He was like if a furnace was transformed into a person through some kind of miracle of God. Lovino could feel the heat radiating off him even without touching him. “I'd take you down south, but I feel like uprooting you guys and making you move in this weather would just make things worse. Also, I don't think Toris would like the heat very much. It can get really bad down there, and that's only talking about the weather. Don't even get me started on the crocodiles.”

“Crocodiles?” Lovino squeaked. He remembered Spain warning him about those when he was little and being absolutely scared stiff by them. “That's okay, bastard. I can handle it just fine, up here.”

“'Course you can, Lovi. I wouldn't keep you here if I thought otherwise.” the American turned towards the window, staring at the white flakes slowly moving past. Lovino followed his eyes. From inside, wrapped up in a blanket and sitting quietly, it almost looked pretty and peaceful. A smile fell over the other's face, his mind most likely off somewhere else. Despite how young he was, Lovino could always see that there was a lot of out of character maturity just beyond that bubbly smile. It scared him sometimes, knowing that someone so stupidly energetic could know more than he really lets on.

“Mister America.” Lovino never used the American's actual name – Alfred. It'd always felt too intimate to him. Insults and impersonal things like _you_ and _mister_ were safer. If only the idiot could share the same sentiment. Alas, he didn't and Lovino was fairly certain he'd heard his name more these past few months than he'd heard from anyone in years.

“Hmm?” The other turned away from the window, the smile fading now that he was out of his zone. Lovino wouldn't ever admit it, but he might have been a little sad to see it go.

“What were you smiling at?” Alfred laughed, filling up the room with the sound. It was the kind of laugh that easily got annoying, but maybe time and exposure had worn away Lovino's enmity towards it.

“I was thinking how we'd be able to finally have a white Christmas,” Alfred replied, once he'd stopped laughing. “It's been a while since I had one last. I'm usually in DC or overseas during the holidays. I've actually got an excuse to stay home this year.”

“A white Christmas?” Lovino scoffed, “Why would you want something like that?”

“It's traditional.” Alfred shrugged, not really sure how else to describe it. “There's nothing more beautiful than the world fading into a white oblivion while you sit with your loved ones around an open fire and just forget the struggles of the world for an evening. When I was really little, that was every Christmas eve.”

“That sounds kinda nice, I guess,” Lovino grumbled and Alfred's smile in return looked almost guilty.

“I'm sorry you can't spend the holidays with yours. It's not quite the same, but maybe Toris and I will be enough this year?” Lovino was quiet a moment, thinking of the right thing to say.

“Yeah, bastard. I'm sure you'll be fine.”

There was quiet, again and Lovino took this opportunity to take a drink from his coffee. The Lithuanian always made it funny, but he was getting better at perfecting it every day. Give him another month or so and Toris might even be making his favorite cup better than he did. That was a scary thought. Just as the Italian was beginning to start to enjoy the American's silent company, the oaf burst out of his seat, finger raised in sudden realization and ruining the moment.

“Ah ha! That's what I'll do today!”

“What?” Lovino's tone was a little bitter, but that went unnoticed by Alfred. He continued right on with his new found enthusiasm.

“I'm going to decorate! I know I've got a ton of cute little ornaments and garlands and things. This place is gonna be the most festive house on the block!” Alfred was off, nearly running into Toris as he dashed through the doorway on his route to the attic where said decorations were kept during the other seasons. “Whoops! Sorry, Toris!”

“It's quite alright, Sir.”

“Tch. Idiot.” Lovino couldn't help but grumble under his breath as the American left, leaving Toris and himself alone. The Lithuanian turned to him with a quiet, knowing smile.

“Did you like your coffee, Italy?” Romano glanced over to him, eyes narrowed.

“It's better, I guess. What the hell are you smiling about, huh?” Toris let out a small chuckle, unable to contain himself.

“Nothing of concern. Merely a private thought I just had. Can I take that for you?” Toris indicated his cup and Lovino shook his head. He wasn't quite done yet and relinquishing it meant he probably would have to go back to work, which he was really not looking forward to. The other accepted this with a polite nod and instead sat down in a nearby chair for him to finish. The air was filled with the sound of Lovino's sipping and the occasional sound of rummaging from high above them. Lovino just hoped the idiot didn't get himself crushed by boxes or something. That'd be hell to have to take care of, later.

“Italy, if you don't mind my asking,” Toris said, interrupting the near silence. “How do you feel about Mister America?”

“What do you mean?” Lovino questioned, setting his cup in his lap for a moment and giving the other a weird look.

“I mean to say… What is your relationship with him? Is he just your boss? Perhaps a friend? How do you feel about him?” Lovino considered the question. It was a hard one. Sure, Alfred was his boss, but he was more than that, too. Not quite a friend, but something similar. Alfred always went out of his way to make Lovino feel safe and welcome and special. He knew he was loved by his family back in Europe, but they were not raised to remind him of it like Alfred was. If there was ever one thing the English bastard did right, it was to teach the American how to do that, at least.

“I don't really know,” Lovino admitted, biting his bottom lip, “Why's it matter, anyways? What's it to you?”

“I'm just curious.” Toris stood and held his hand out for Lovino's now empty cup, which the Italian relinquished to him. “Are you planning on giving him a present?”

“I didn't really think about it.” Lovino was a little surprised to find a piece of paper pressed into his hands, paired with a small smile from Toris.

“I already grabbed the decorations from the attic a few days ago and went ahead and catalogued all of them. I noticed he was missing a nativity set, which I'm told are a large part of Italian Christmas. I also noticed you are rather talented at sculpting figurines and the like. This...” Toris gestured towards the paper in Lovino's hand. “…Should take you to somewhere where you can get supplies. Mister America is very interested in us and who we are and where we come from. Perhaps, if you were to give him something this Christmas, it should be part of yourself. He wouldn't expect anything from us, I'm sure, but consider it?”

“Why are you doing this?” Toris's smile remained polite and professional.

“I am simply trying to help. Mister America has been very good to us and he deserves that much.”

“Toris!” Alfred's call came from the top of the stairs, interrupting any further remarks Lovino wanted to say. The Lithuanian excused himself to go see to the American's need.

“Mister America?”

“I can't find the Christmas decorations!”

“I brought them down already, Sir.”

“Oh! Fantastic! Excellent show of initiative, Toris!”

“Thank you, Sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

This was way too much work for one stupid little gift.

Toris had been right about the nativity set. After Alfred spent the next day and a half decorating the entire house, Lovino had looked everywhere for one. Not so much as a wise man in sight. He'd visited the place Toris had suggested, gotten the necessary supplies and even begun work on the project, sculpting the figurines with careful precision and painting them accordingly. The completed ones, so far only a couple of wisemen and a donkey, sat in a box under Lovino's bed, out of the view of any nosy Americans. It wouldn't be worth all the effort he'd put into it if Alfred caught a glimpse of them and ruined the surprise.

As if on cue, the door of Lovino's room swung open and he practically screeched as he tried to hide the figurine he'd been making, accidentally squishing the clay in his haste. He gave a quick, wordless prayer of forgiveness for having crushed the baby Jesus before turning to Alfred with a furious glance. “What is it, Bastard! Can't you see I'm busy?”

“Really? Whoops. Sorry, Lovi. I thought maybe you were still napping.” Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. Lovino almost expect the other to question what he was doing, but the American didn't bother, already moved back to the topic he'd come in to discuss.

“Toris and I are going caroling with a couple of the local church members. Would you like to join us?” Alfred smiled brightly.

“Why the hell would I do that, Bastard? It's freezing outside and your singing makes full grown men cry – And not in the good way.” Alfred pouted a little at that and Lovino almost felt bad, but the idiot only bounced right back and he couldn't really hold onto that feeling if Alfred, himself, wasn't going to.

“You sure? You're going to be here all by yourself.” Lovino considered this. He didn't really want to be alone…

Wait, yes he did! Having an empty house meant he wouldn't have any interruptions for a few hours, giving him plenty of time to work on his gift in piece. “Yeah, I'm sure.”

“Alright.” Alfred shrugged, accepting it. “I'll have Toris leave something for you to nibble on if you get bored while we're gone.”

“I don't really think that's going to happen,” Lovino replied. They both heard the wordless thanks in his words and Alfred gave one last, quick nod before turning and leaving, closing the door behind him. Now that he was alone, Lovino turned back to his hands, only to find the tiny baby morphed into a lumpy ball. With a sigh, he began to reform the material. This time, the poor thing wouldn't have any more incidents.

* * *

When Alfred and Toris returned home later that night, they found Lovino fast asleep in his room. Head resting on his workspace. He'd just managed to finish up making the Virgin Mary, but when he'd returned to it after putting her away in the box for safe keeping, the Italian couldn't help putting his head down and dozing off. It'd been a long day and he was not one to stay up very late, anyways. Alfred smiled, fondly, at the small man before lifting him up and promising Toris he'd be back after putting the other to bed, properly. Toris nodded his understanding and said he would start on something warm for them to enjoy for when Alfred was done.

The American gave him one last nod before taking Lovino to his bed and tucking him in. When he returned, Toris was in the kitchen. He set a cup of coffee in front of Alfred as soon as the other sat down at the kitchen table. He breathed in the aroma of it, hands moving around either side to collect the warmth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, drawing a quiet chuckled from Toris. He was content with being quiet as Alfred babbled, filling the silence with mostly pointless chatter. It was a nice change, Toris thought, to the awkward tension in Ivan's house or the emptiness of his own. One of many differences between where he was and where he'd come from. Toris never really doubted Alfred was strong enough to crush him – He vaguely remembered Arthur rushing around to tell all of Europe he had a baby that could throw full sized buffalo back when Alfred had still been in his colonial days – but it was a different kind of strength than he felt at Ivan's house. The Russian was confusing and weird and a sadness hovered around him that seemed to chase away anything good. Alfred was vastly different, always so childish and bright and he made a point of including everyone around him like some kind of collector of people. It would have been weird to look at from the outside, but seemed entirely too encompassing from where he was standing.

Eventually, Toris joined him at the table, placing two plates on it as well. Alfred happily dug into the warm food and Toris took this opportunity to finally speak. “Sir?”

Alfred glanced to him briefly, giving Toris all he needed to continue. “If it's not too personal, do you mind me asking what you think of Italy and I? What with us staying here and taking up all your space and all.”

For a moment, Alfred looked confused, like he didn’t understand the question, but that quickly melted into a soft and melancholy smile that the American took on every once in a while. “You want the truth?”

Toris nodded. “If you would.”

“Well, when I was little, my house would be really empty all the time,” Alfred said, his gaze distant, as if his mind was busy recreating a moment long since passed. “It was so big and I had lots of stuff, but Britain was always off exploring new territories and often left me by myself, instead of taking me to Europe. I don’t really have a lot of neighbors and I got lonely very quickly, especially since I couldn’t make friendships with humans very easily.”

Alfred paused a moment and Toris dared not even moved. Even knowing Alfred was more complex than his outward personality gave him credit for, it was always intriguing to have moments of seriousness like this from the man. “Now, though, I’m never lonely. Even if I have to leave the house for a couple days here or there, I always know that you two will be here waiting for me when I get back. I know that I have people I can talk to and can help in return. It makes me _happy_ to have you guys around. It makes me feel like I’m not alone.”

Toris gave a soft smile. He’d heard a similar story from the Russian before, but there was something about the way the American told it that made it sound more hopeful. Ivan had always sounded like he still lived in loneliness, even when surrounded by so many people, but Alfred’s tale had a happy ending. He opened his doors and people just came to him. It was more inspiring than the equivalent soviet tale.

“What’s with the sudden question anyways?” And the regular Alfred was back, happily eating away at his food as if he hadn’t just been serious moments before. “Have I made it seem like I didn’t like you guys around or something? You’re not planning to leave, are you?”

Toris picked up on the worry in that last question, however slight that it was, and filed that away for a later day. “I was just talking to Italy the other day and the question came to mind. Are you done?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah!” Alfred handed his empty plate over when Toris reached for it.

“Would you like more?”

“Yes, please!” Toris gave a nod and a slight smile as he refilled the American’s plate before returning it to the energetic man. If Lovino had been awake, the Italian probably would have started yelling about not inhaling his food, to which the American would have boldly laughed and continued on in his own way. The thought of that alone made the room more lively and exciting, even in the middle of the night. In compared to living back in Ivan’s house, Toris decided, this was a _vast_ improvement.


	3. Chapter 3

Lovino decided he was going to kill Alfred.

Really, he’d had a great time in America so far and appreciated the guy for all he’d done, but it just had to be this way. Alfred had to die. It was the only way.

“Haha! King me!” the blonde cried, excitedly.

“We’re playing Parcheesi, Sir,” Toris reminded him, taking the dice for his own turn. “There are no kings.”

“Yeah, but I still am absolutely taking you both down!” Alfred cheered, happily.

“You know what? This is stupid!” Lovino exclaimed, flipping the board in his exasperation. It wasn’t because he was losing, though. It’s because this was a dumb game. “I’m going to go make cookies or something.”

“Aw, _Lovi_.” For a moment, a pout settled on Alfred’s face, but it was quickly replaced by excitement at the prospect of desserts. “Wait, did you say cookies?”

“Yeah, bastard. I said cookies.” Lovino narrowed his eyes at the blonde. “Why?”

“Can I help you make them?” Alfred inquired, standing up as well. “I love making Christmas cookies!”

“Who said they were gonna be Christmas cookies?” Lovino demanded. “And you don’t like making _shit!_ You just like licking the spoon!”

“Can you blame me?” Alfred laughed, following after the retreating Italian.

“Yeah! I can! That’s disgusting!”

“It’s not disgusting! It’s delicious!”

Toris gave a soft chuckle as their voices faded into the kitchen, likely where Alfred would claim a piece of the counter to lean against and watch while Lovino started whipping up the batter. Leaning down, the Lithuanian began picking up the scattered pieces and putting them back in their box. Once Alfred was properly appeased with a spoon of batter to entertain himself with, Toris would join them and help Lovino roll out and shape the cookies into festive shapes because that’s what their American boss would request of them.

“Here, Bastard. Now shut up!” Lovino said from the other room, just as Toris was closing the box and setting it aside on the table for later.

“’Hank’ou,” Alfred mumbled, already sticking the spoon he’d been offered into his mouth.

“You’re so gross,” Lovino huffed.

“You love me!” Alfred replied, happily. Toris had the benefit of walking in just as Lovino’s entire face turned bright red.

“I don’t-!” the Italian began.

“Can I help?” Toris interrupted, a knowing look crossing his features. Lovino simply glared.

“ _Yeah!_ We could always use another hand!” Alfred said, easily welcoming in the other.

“You’re not even doing anything, Bastard!”

“Am so! I’m taste testing! I’m the official taste tester!”

“More like the official _pain in my ass_!”

Toris grabbed an apron while the two of them went back and forth. Sliding up beside Lovino, he tied the item behind his back and rolled up his sleeves. “Alright. What do I do, first?”

“Mix this,” Lovino scowled, pushing the bowl of batter he’d been attending to into Toris’ hands. “I’ve got my hands a little full killing this idiot!”

“Haha! Gotta catch me, first!” Alfred cried, darting off to the far side of the kitchen table. Lovino wasted no time in going after him, waving a spoon threateningly in his direction. Toris watched this exchange, shaking his head at the way Alfred only seemed to dodge out of the way of Lovino’s attacks. Eventually, the American got cocky and tried to make break for the exit, but Lovino launched at him and the two of them ended up on the ground. At first, Lovino was worried he’d hurt the guy or something, but Alfred just started laughing. Eventually, all three of them were cracking up from the antics, Lovino burying his face in Alfred’s shirt while Toris had to put the bowl he was mixing down before he dropped it.

“ _Gotcha_ ,” Lovino wheeze out between breaths.

“You did,” Alfred returned, equally amused, “Guess you gotta kill me, now.”

“Shut up, Bastard.”

“Or did I miss hear you and you were gonna _kiss_ me?”

“Shut up!” Lovino hit Alfred with the spoon which brought a whole new round of giggles to bubble out of the blonde. Despite the teasing, Lovino couldn’t bring himself to loose his smile completely, yet, his expression settling into slight fondness.

“Are we going to keep talking about kissing or bake cookies?” Toris called over, having picked the batter back up and finished mixing it. Lovino and Alfred both glanced over at him from the floor.

“Cookies!” The American replied, energetically. Once the two of them were back to their feet, Lovino took the batter from Toris. They settled into a calmer chatter, with Alfred occasionally stealing some of the batter when he thought they weren’t looking and both nations pretending like they didn’t see. It was comfortable and warm despite the sudden flurry of snow starting up outside and Lovino was surprised to find a happiness filling in his insides. He’d been having enough of this up to this point that he could even give a name to the feeling. Part of him knew it probably wouldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t help but let himself dream that maybe it would. Maybe, this time, the three of them could just play out this moment forever, sitting around baking cookies in the American’s welcoming home while snowflakes danced just outside.

* * *

 

“He’s like a little kid,” Lovino rolled his eyes, him and Toris sitting in chairs and sipping their coffee. Alfred was passed out on the couch, one arm tossed carelessly over the armrest and the other just barely brushing the ground.

“He is,” Toris gave a chuckle, but it melted slightly into sadness after a moment. “I worry about him.”

“Seriously?” Lovino glanced over at the other, somewhat disbelieving of his comment. “Why? Mister America is more than capable of taking care of himself. I mean, didn’t Britain leave him by himself for years on end?”

“I am not worried about that.” Toris swirled his coffee slightly. “I am worried about him being alone.”

“He’s not alone. He’s got us.” Lovino replied, like it was obvious.

Toris smiled, sadly. The way that the Italian glanced over at the America as he spoke felt so sincere. “For now, but we will have to go home eventually.”

Lovino froze, the reality of the statement settling over him. For as long he’d been here, he’d become comfortable in Alfred’s house, the place feeling more like his home than his own back in Italy. The worry had made itself known now and again, especially with the war that was building very quickly in Europe, but he’d allowed to brush those thoughts aside. For all he’d done it, he had thought the Lithuanian had done the same. Apparently something had happened. “Are you leaving?”

“Soon. This will be my last Christmas here,” Toris admitted. “Mister Russia has expressed his displeasure with me staying here and he’s started forming a larger presence on my land, again. I wish to leave before he completely takes over. Save Mister America the trouble of the incident.”

“I’m… I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Yes. I did that on purpose. It is easier if I let him enjoy our time here as long as I can.” Toris seemed defeated and Lovino was reminded yet again how lucky they were, living in Alfred’s home and having him there to watch out for them. Two nations who had been kicked around and played like pawns throughout much of history had _meant something_ here. They may have served him, but neither had ever really felt like servants. Lovino, at least, had had Antonio when he was very little, but Toris had never really been watched out for by anyone the way that Alfred had.

“Do you want to go back?” Lovino asked, only because he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t think of a reason to ever want to stop being this happy.

“I must.” Toris couldn’t give a different answer. Saying yes would be an outright lie, but saying no would be too painful for when he knew he had to. “He will be sad, but he will let me go.”

“Do you think he’ll understand?” Lovino asked.

“No.” Toris shook his head and then took a sip of his coffee. “He is idealistic and so removed from Europe. He will not understand why others keep fighting and why some end up just laying down. When he fought a war with England, all of Europe ran to his aid. He gives money more often than he does men. He does not scramble for resources like so many others and he has not had to for a long time. He will not understand our war or our reasons for it. But he will let me go because he will still have you.”

“And what about me? What about when I have to leave?” Lovino may not _want_ to go, but he might have to. If Spain needed him. Or his brother. They were alright, now, but there was no saying what the turn of the war may bring.

“Then he will be alone,” Toris answered, quietly, “And I think, perhaps, that is the one thing that he fears most of all.”


	4. Chapter 4

Lovino was always amazed at the number of gifts that were left for them under the tree, every year. Christmas at home had always been a far more sentimental occasion, with him getting a single gift from his brother, Antonio and then one from _Santa_ , because the Finnish nation was just cool like that. Here, though, Alfred went above and beyond to get enough gifts to fill in the space beneath the tree, even if he really shouldn’t have. When he’d first come to America, there had been more people in Alfred’s home and gifts had been spread out more reasonably, but as time went and people left, it did not decrease the amount of spending Alfred did each year, merely increased the number that him and Toris seemed to receive. For a brief moment, Lovino thought about how all the gifts next Christmas would probably be for him, but the thought brought with it a pang of sadness and he quickly chased it away.

Alfred had woken the both of them up at the crack of dawn and dragged them down the stairs, already having sorted all the gifts by recipient by the time Toris came in and handed him his coffee. The three of them picked their places around the sitting room, presents encompassing the entire floor. There were three presents for Alfred, a pile which was shamefully small compared to their own mountains, but he seemed more interested in his friend’s reactions than his own want.

“Open them up!” Alfred suggested. “I tried to get everything you wanted and if I couldn’t afford something, I wrote to Santa about it. Finland said he’d put in an extra good word for you guys when I got in touch with him, so hopefully it worked!”

The three of them tore into their presents, both Toris and Lovino chuckling to themselves at a couple of the gifts Alfred had picked out, but content and happy with them none-the-less. Finally, all the presents had been opened and Alfred was talking about trying out the board game his boss had gotten him when Lovin spoke up.

“Hold on a second, Bastard. I’ve got something for you, too. Don’t move.” Lovino pointed at him as if to emphasize his need to stay in place. Running up the stairs, Lovino grabbed the box from under his bed and returning to the sitting room before shoving it in Alfred’s face. “Open it!”

The American smiled at him before peeling the lid back and peering inside. The way his face lit up in fascination lifted a tightness off of Lovino’s heart that had been settled there since he had started this whole project. “ _Woah_. What is it?”

“Nativity set,” Lovino answered, exchanging a look with Toris, who only smiled, fondly. “Basically they’re a bunch of figurines of the birth of baby Jesus. They’re… Uh… They’re kinda a big deal back in Italy and I noticed you didn’t have one, so I made you one.”

“You _made_ these?” Alfred demanded, delicately picking up the Joseph figurine. “Lovi, they’re _beautiful_.”

Lovino blushed and looked away. “ _Tch_. It’s whatever, Bastard. It’s not that big of a deal. I just thought that if you’re going to decorate, you might as well start doing it _right_.” Before Lovino really knew what was happening, Alfred had wrapped his arms around the Italian and was holding him tightly; Maybe a little _too_ tightly. “Can’t… Breathe...”

“Whoops! Sorry,” Alfred pulled away a little sheepishly, but that didn’t deter his happiness for very long. “I love them, Lovi. Help me put them up, somewhere?”

“Sure.” Lovino nodded. “I’d love to… Alfred.” The nation’s first name felt a little funny from lack of use, but Lovino didn’t really care. He decided the radiating smile he got in return was well worth it. It didn’t matter what Toris said, if Alfred just kept smiling at him like that, Lovino didn’t think he would ever go home.


End file.
